Accident' implies no one is at fault
by Culf
Summary: Life on MarsHot Fuzz crossover, because the similarities are to great for no one to do it.Nick and Danny are in a traffic collision and wake up in 1973.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own neither Life on Mars nor Hot Fuzz, but the similarities were too great for me _not_ to play with.  
**Author's note:** Any constructive criticism is highly appreciated

* * *

"Danny! Lights!" Yelled Nicholas Angel, stomping hard on the gas pedal.

"Yeah, boiii!" Danny shouted and slammed the police light on the car roof with a dramatic movement. Some bastard was doing 80 in a 50 zone, and he would pay a dear price if Sanford's finest had anything to say. Nicholas spun the wheel, turning onto the highway. Life with Danny had changed him, much for the better but there were some aspects of his old personality he should have kept. Checking that the road is clear before turning onto it was amongst them.  
As the BMW smashed into the side of the police car, all Nicholas could think was "_Not Danny. Not like his mother."_  
The last thing Danny thought as he was showered by glass splinters, the sound of metal twisted out of shape deafening everything else, was "_Shit just got real…"  
_  
"What the hell are you doing in my office?" A voice shouted as a white loafer connected with Danny's belly.

"There's no need to shout," Danny groaned, sitting up. "Or kick." He added, rubbing the sore spot on his stomach. He took a deep breath to clear his head and almost had a coughing fit. He couldn't remember ever having been in a room so stale with old smoke. He looked around the room, noticing the filing cabinets covered in papers, the dustbin full of old flasks and the old western posters coating the walls.

"Wow, this is so cool," Danny exclaimed. It looked almost like a film set in here! Another thump by the white loafers, this one to his thigh, brought him back to the situation at hand. He scrambled to his feet.

"Hi, I'm Danny," he said, holding out his hand towards the man glaring at him. The man made no move to take it, so Danny reached out and shook the strangers hand without permission. He was rewarded by a punch to the gut.

"That was uncalled for!" He yelled. "I was only trying to be polite," he said sullenly, one arm covering his abused abdomen.

"I don't make a habit out of being polite to people who break into my office." The man said. "Now tell me, what… are… you… doing… in… MY office?"

"I dunno," Danny answered. "Last I remember, I was in a traffic collision." _which must have looked so cool,_ he mentally added.

"Great!" the other man yelled, exasperated. "Just what I need. Another idiot with a concussion from a car accident."

"Um, we're not supposed to say 'accidents'." Danny informed the man nervously. "The word 'accident' implies there's no one to blame. We're supposed to say 'collision' instead." The other man's eyes bulged at that, and Danny raised his arms in a protective position, scared that the man was going to hit him again.

"That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard. Who told you that?" he shouted

"It's the official police guidelines," Danny told him, still holding his arms raised in front of his face and upper body.

"Please don't tell me you're a police officer," the man begged.

"PC Danny Butterman at your service, Sir," Danny told him proudly, giving a little salute when he reached the 'Sir'. "And if you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

"Gene Hunt, DCI for A Division in Manchester. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say you're from C Division in Hyde." Gene said.

"You're a DCI? That's brilliant! My dad wanted to be a DCI. Never made it past Inspector, though. Had to be sent to jail for killing all them people before he got there."

"You what?" Gene asked, perplexed.

"My dad went a bit mental. Started breaking the law instead of keeping it. Damn shame, really. He taught me how to be a police man officer." Danny sighed.

"'s not nice, having your mentor turn rotten like that," Gene agreed.

"Yeah," Danny said wistfully. "Makes you understand why Luke went all '_Nooooooo'_ when he found out his father was Darth Vader."

"Darth who?" Gene asked.

"You know, Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, King of the Asthma, father of Luke Skywalker and generally bad ass of the universe?" There was no spark of recognition in Hunt's eyes.

"Star Wars!" Danny clarified. Still no reaction.

"You ain't seen Star Wars?" He asked, shocked.

"So it's a movie, then?" Gene asked.

"It's only the most famous sci-fi movie ever," Danny exclaimed.

"I mostly only watch westerns meself," Gene explained.

"I usually watch action movies, but there are some movies everyone should have seen. I think even Nicholas has seen Star Wars, and that's saying something!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not here to discuss movies, so if you're not gonna tell me how you got here, then would you mind getting out?" Gene said when the door to his office was thrown open. A pretty brunette was standing there, a look of worry etched on her face.

"Cartwright," Gene said. "Anything wrong?"

"It's Sam," she answered. "He's not in yet, and he won't pick up the phone."

"Marvellous," Gene groaned. "Bastard's probably got himself handcuffed to his own bed again. I better go over and uncuff him. "He was halfway out his office when he heard a hopeful voice calling from behind.  
_  
"Can I come?"_

"What are you doing here?" were the words Angel woke to.

"I'm sorry?" he asked, confused.

"You," the voice asked. "Have you come to make my life difficult with some cryptic bollocks or are you just here to scare the shit out of me for entertainment purposes?"

"What?" Nick murmured.

"I'm assuming you're a figment of my imagination, seeing as you're wearing a standard issue police uniform and stab vest from 2006, and that doesn't belong in 1973. Then again, 1973 is probably a figment of my imagination as well." Angel opened his eyes at that. Above him was a man dressed in tight cord trousers with flares and an almost, but not quite, white vest. He looked tired and perhaps a little drunk. The half empty bottle of whiskey clutched in the man's hand supported that theory. Nick slowly got to his feet, mindful of not making any sudden movements. Caution was key when dealing with intoxicated and delusional members of the public, and even if the man hadn't shown any obvious signs yet, Nicholas wouldn't rule out potential drug use.

"I can assure you that I'm not part of your imagination," he told him, keeping a calm voice. "I'm Inspector Nicholas Angel, I'm a police officer," he offered. "Do you know how I got here?"

"Statistically speaking, you probably climbed out of the telly," the man answered before taking a swig of the bottle.

"I think you've had enough of that for tonight," Nick said, pointing at the bottle still in the firm grip of the other man. The man looked at him, took a last mouthful and screwed the cork back on, tossing the bottle onto his bed.

"Suppose so," he answers and drops down onto the bed, face in his hand. For the tiniest of seconds, Nicholas thinks he might be crying, but he's only rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. Rubbing as if he'll see something different the next the next time he opens his eyes.

"Why are you here?" He asks, finally looking up, letting his hands drop into his lap.

"I don't know!" Nick growls, suddenly pissed. He stands up and throws his arms angrily around as he tries to explain himself. "I was involved in a collision. Me and my partner, Danny, we were supposed to catch someone speeding. Another car rammed into us before we even hit the road properly, and the next thing I know, I wake up here!" he shouts, pointing an accusing finger at the other man. "Who the hell are you anyway?" He asks heatedly. He can see that the other man is about to answer when there's a knock on the door. The man doesn't react. He just shuts up and doesn't even turn to the door.

"Are you gonna answer that?" Nick asks, half curious, half annoyed.

"I'm not really in the mood for a social visit right now," the man answers. "Besides, if it's important, Gene will just kick the door in as usual." Nick doesn't even have time to question that sentence before the door bursts open with a bang, and a tall, heavy man enters. The other man, the one he's been talking to so far, turns towards the new visitor, and it's clearly not who he expected. This worries Nick slightly, and it worries him even more when he realises that the visitor's brought company.

TBC...

* * *

**AN: **Remember, people, constuctive criticism is love!


	2. Chapter 2

For reasons unknown to even the highest of powers, Gene had allowed Danny to come with him to kick in Sam's door. No harm could come from it, Gene justified to himself. Besides, if he refused to let Danny ride back with him and Sam, chances were the sergeant would be unable to find his way back to the station, which solved Gene's problem nicely. It had, at least, until Danny started talking.

"So, if I were in a traffic collision," Danny asked, "Does that mean Nicholas was as well?"

"Dunno, who's Nicholas?"

"He's my partner."

"Why would he be in this unreported crash that somehow landed you in my office?"

"Well, he _was_ driving the car when it was hit."

"Then yeah, it would appear safe to assume he was,"

"Do you think he's all right?"

"Don't know, don't care."

"I was all right, and the other car hit my side of the car. That means he's all right, yeah?"

"Unless a chunk of the wind screen ripped his head off,"

"Can that happen?"

"Seen it once, back when I was on traffic duty. Pretty gruesome."

"You don't think that happened to Nicholas, do you?" Gene was about to say that, yes, he was pretty sure that was what had happened, and that they'd got a call on such an accident before they left the office, but the genuine worry on Danny's face stopped him. He was bad enough at handling crying women, if he had to comfort a crying police officer, he might just throw himself under the wheels of his own Cortina.

"Probably not," Gene sighed. "Look, I'm sure he's fine, would you stop worrying?"

"Do you think he woke up in a strange place like I did?"

"Why do you insist on acting like I care? Would you just shut up before I kick you out of this car while it's still moving?" Gene shouted. Danny shut up for a whole 10 seconds.

"Where are we anyway?" he asked.

"Kennel Road."

"Not the street, the city!"

"You know, you really are as mental as Tyler. It's Manchester, you div. Do you need the year too, like he did?"

"Manchester! You know, I've never been to Manchester before. Fancy I should wake up here." Danny grinned. "But why would Tyler need to know the year?"

"The picky pain had a concussion. Convinced himself it was supposed to be 2006."

"Well, isn't it?"

"It's 1973, you dolt!"

"Last time I looked, it was 2006. You sure you didn't just forget to switch you calendars? The editor of our local newspaper did once. For three months it said 2003 when actually, it was 2004. Felt rather silly when someone pointed it out to him."

"I'm pretty damn sure it's 1973," Gene shouted. "Blimey, you and Tyler could share a room in the loony bin. Now shut it, or by God, I'll shut it for you!" This time, the silence lasted all of _15_ seconds.

"So you really think Nicholas is all right?"

When they finally arrived outside of Sam's building, Gene was as close to committing murder as he ever had been. It took every shred of his already close to non-existent discipline to walk the stairs to Tyler's room rather than kick Danny's head in. He'd go up, release some pent up frustration on the door (he'd decided not to even bother knocking this time), pick up Tyler, and, if Danny so much as suggested riding back to the station with them, run the man over with the car, paintwork be damned.  
This was why his first reaction to Sam's door already hanging off its hinges was disappointment, not alarm. The feelings quickly shifted, though, when saw the state of Sam's room.  
The flat was a bit dingy at the best and Gene often found Sam's clothes and empty liquor bottles lying around on the floor when he came to retrieve him. This was different, however. The bed had collapsed, the table was turned over, and a liquid that looked suspiciously like blood was pooled next to the collapsed bed. Turning silently on his heel, Gene was about to call for back up when Danny's head appeared in the doorframe.

"It got boring waiting downstairs," he explained, before noticing the state of the flat. "Blimey, what happened here?" he asked wide eyed.

"Seems we've got ourselves a new case," Gene replied stoically. "Tyler's been kidnapped." He pushed past Danny, no emotion but cold fury on his face. Danny didn't follow, though. He stood frozen in the doorway.

"Tubby, get over here! I'm not leaving someone I don't know to walk all over a crime scene." Danny didn't move. Gene went back to him, intent on dragging the man away if necessary. Just as he was about to grab his collar, Danny pointed at something on the floor of the flat.

"They've got Nicholas too," he whispered, eyes focused at the police hat lying upside down on the floor.

"Don't be daft, it could be anyone's hat," Gene protested.

"No. Look, it's got '_twat'_ written on the brim," he said quietly. "It's Nicholas's."

"Great," Gene muttered, throwing his hands in the air. "Does this mean I'm stuck with you?"

When Sam finally woke to find himself handcuffed to the piping of a very generic basement, Nicholas had already been awake for quite a while.

"Wha…" he tried to say, and then thought better of it. He pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to relieve some of the pressure inside his skull.

"You fell during the struggle with the intruders and hit your head against the metal frame of your bed. You cut your temple and probably suffered a concussion," he heard Nicholas inform him in clinically. "That, combined with the residue alcohol in your bloodstream would explain the headache you appear to be suffering." Sam squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again before attempting an answer.

"So what you're saying is, my head hurts because I hit it and have a hang over?" he said deadpan.

"Basically," Nicholas answered.

"That's just great." Sam groaned. With a lot of effort, he managed to focus on Nicholas again.

"Why are dressed like that again?" he asked, pointing in what might have been the general direction of Nicholas. His vision was still pretty fuzzy from the blinding headache.

"I'm a police officer. The uniform is mandatory." Nicholas explained as if talking to a 5 year old.

"But that's a 2006 uniform," Sam said, pulling at his cuffed arm. It turned out that the other end of the handcuff wasn't fastened to the pipe at all, just looped around it and fastened to Nicholas's wrist, causing Sam to tug at Nicholas.

"Seeing as it is 2006, that would be correct, but hardly of any importance. I was involved in a car crash before I woke up in your flat, and I really need to know what happened to the other person in the car with me," Nicholas asked, hoping to finally get a straight answer.

"You were in an accident in 2006 and woke up here?" Sam asked with hope and fear mixed in his voice.

"Yes, now would you tell me were Danny is?" Nicholas inquired, worry over his friend straining his patience.

"It's not possible!" Sam said, "You're just my mind trying to trick me! I'm finally settling in, so it decides to take me on a merry-go-round of doubt and alienation. I won't let it!" he shouted. He stubbornly shut his eyes and put his hands over his ears, trying to block the world out.

"Listen, I've had enough of this!" Nicholas shouts back, "Where am I and _where the fuck is Danny?_" He barely restrains himself from slapping the other man to gain his attention, and settles for yanking his cuffed hand so that one of the other mans hands are pulled away from his ear. The man looks up at him, obviously having hoped he'd disappeared. He looks deep into Nicholas's eyes, and with a scared whisper, he tells him,

"My name is Sam Tyler. I had an accident and I woke up 33 years in the past."

TBC…

AN: I'm a feedback whore, and it's a cold and lonely night…


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **If I did own Life on Mars, I wouldn't be sitting here writing fic. I'd spend my time doing filthy things to Gene Hunt instead, but that's not how it works, sadly. And if I'd owned Hot Fuzz, I'd just have spent my time watching Nicholas and Danny being adorable together, but I get that from just watching the film, so I can't complain too loud.**  
Author's note: **I'm still writing, which is a big deal for me! I'm really worried about the characterization, so feedback on that would be great. And I should remember to thank mapanda for being my trusted beta. Thanks, darling! 

By the time backup arrived, Danny was sick with worry. When he'd woken up from the accident, he'd assumed Nicholas was okay, solely on the basis that Danny himself was. Finding out that that wasn't the case greatly upset him. He'd been sniffing since him and Gene had gone outside to wait for the other detectives, trying hard not to cry openly. He had the distinct feeling that actual tears would result in yet another punch from the DCI, and Danny's stomach was still hurting from the last one. He'd tried to ask whether Gene thought Nicholas was okay, but was met with a stony silence each time. The last time he'd tried to ask, he'd been met by such a withering glare he hadn't dared speak since.

At the sound of screeching tires, Danny looked up, wiping his eyes in as covert a movement as possible.

"What's happened, Guv?" He heard a man ask as he stepped out of the passenger seat of the first car to arrive.

"Did the Boss get hisself handcuffed to his own bed again?" another man sniggered as he left the same car. He instantly reminded Danny of the Andes, right down to the mustache and the attitude. Danny dared a look at Gene. The older man had adopted a professional air that was almost colder than the one Danny had seen him display before the other officers arrived.

"Evidence points to DI Tyler having been abducted," he stated icily. The shock was apparent on the other officers faces, more so on the first man to get out of the car than Andy 3.

"Are you sure, Guv?" the one Danny had yet to come up with a nickname for asked. "He could be out shopping or summat."

"There is the possibility of that, but the blood and the shattered furniture indicates that something illegal has taken place. That, or Tyler brought home a very kinky bird last night. Of course, one doesn't necessarily rule out the other," Gene said, turning towards the building so he didn't have to look his utterly useless men in the face. Like he would have called for back-up if there was any possibility of Sam just having gone to the store.

"We know there was another man with him in the apartment, but we don't know if it was he who done it, or if he was an idiot bystander who got caught up in it. Luckily, the supposed Sergeant Butterman here knows the bloke, so he'll come with us for a round in Lost and Found while forensics work this place," Gene explained, pointing at Danny.

"And Sergeant Butterman will be riding back with you," he told Ray and Chris as he climbed into the Cortina, slamming the door loudly as he did so.

"You appear to be suffering from a combination of stress due to the current situation and confusion brought on by the head injury. You will be in need of a psych-evaluation once we have dealt with this case of unlawful abduction. In the meantime, I strongly suggest you try to remain calm and let me talk to whoever is responsible for this, should they appear. I might be able to defuse the situation," Nicholas informed Sam calmly, taking everything Sam had told him in stride.

"Let you talk to the kidnapper?" Sam said incredulously, "You'll get us killed with your superior attitude!"

"I have been trained in handling these kinds of situations," Nicholas told him, "It's a simple matter of following the proper procedures."

"That's not how it works here!" Sam exclaimed. "Following procedure…" He paused. "Following procedure will get us killed," he finished, voice resigned and eyes downcast, as if ashamed of what he'd just said.

"We need to get out," he continued after a few moments of silence, "and we need a plan for taking the kidnappers out if they return." Before Nicholas had the chance to lecture Sam on how use of excessive force was illegal, even in a high stress situation, they were interrupted by the creaking of the cellar door opening. A thin ray of light sliced through the room, and the silhouette of a man could be seen standing in the door.

Danny sat in front of a desk in the middle of the Lost and Found room of the Manchester Police Station. Hunt and Andy 3 were sitting opposite him, lighting their cigarettes and taking their time.  
Danny fidgeted with his sleeve as he waited for one of the two men to say something. He was so desperate to break the oppressing silence he considered offering to show them his impersonation of an orangutan when Gene finally spoke.

"I want the full name of the owner of that hat," he said, keeping the treat out of his voice for now.

"What, Nicholas's hat?" Danny asked. The glare he received was enough to convince him that he'd guessed correctly, and that he was an idiot for needing it confirmed.

"I need the last name too, Tubby," Gene informed. Andy 3 didn't say anything. He just sat back in his chair; arms crossed and with a smug look on his face, as if he knew what'd happen next. 

"Angel," Danny told him nervously.

"How do you know this Nicholas Angel?" Gene asked, leaning back in his chair, now mirroring Andy 3's position.

"We're partners, aren't we?" Danny answered innocently. "We're both policeman-officers. He's the Inspector in Sandford. I'm a Sergeant. And he's my best friend."

"So you know him pretty well?" Gene asked, leaning forwards. "What sort of man he is and all?" Danny nodded nervously.

"Think he did this?" Gene asked, leaning close as if they were conspiring together, almost making Danny feel like he was a part of the team.

"Nicholas?" he asked, incredulously. "Nicholas would never do anything illegal!"

"Why do you say that?" Gene asked, still keeping an including tone to his voice, as if Danny's opinion mattered to him.

"Keeps to the rules, doesn't he? It's all about _by-the-book_ and _proper procedures_ with him. Nothing matters to him as much as his job and he's very careful to do it properly."

"He sounds like someone I know," Gene muttered. Andy 3 sniggered at the comment. "He doesn't happen to have an unhealthy crush on paperwork as well?"

"There's no way one can do the stuff we've done without filling out a substantial amount of paperwork afterwards, so he's got to like it a bit, doesn't he? And he told me once that the notebook is a policeman-officer's most important weapon," Danny explained.

"We have a match. Tyler's got a twin somewhere in Sandford." Before anyone could say another word, they were interrupted by the door to Lost and Found being opened.

"I've got the list you wanted over all the people who might have a grudge against the Boss," said the man Danny had been riding with back to the station, along with Andy 3.

"Well done, Chris. This is a waste of time anyway. I'm starting to lean towards the 'idiot bystander' theory with the Angel bloke," Gene snatched the list out of Chris's hand, "Bloody hell, Chris. Why don't we just round up all the sewer crawlers in Manchester? I'm pretty sure every one of them has their name on this list."

"Sorry, Guv. 'S just that the Boss has upset most of the criminals in Manchester since he got here," Chris said, shrinking back. Gene let out a sigh, knowing Chris was right. Fishing a Biro out of his pocket, he started crossing names off the list. When he was done, he shoved the list into Chris's chest. The list had four names left; Kim Trent, Tony Crane, Stephen Warren and Vic Tyler.

"Right, these are the ones most likely bastards to have done it. We're going to pay them all a visit."

"I'm coming with," Danny said, finally building up some nerve.

"I'm sorry, did it sound like I was offering? Did the words _'would you like to join us, Sergeant Butterman?'_ escape my lips?_"_ Gene asked, incredulous.

"Nicholas is in danger. He's my best mate, and I'm not gonna sit and wait for something bad to happen to him. I'm coming with," Danny explained, voice firm. Gene let out a resigned sound and headed for the Cortina, Ray, Chris and Danny trailing him.

TBC…

**Feedback is love. Please love me!**


	4. Chapter 4

The man is quick, and he's sitting hunched down in front of them moments after he's slipped through the door.

"This is a good place for you, Mr. Tyler," the man grins. "Thick walls. No one to hear you scream." He's close enough to touch, but Nicholas decides not to do anything at the moment. He's handcuffed with no way of escape, and doesn't know whether or not the kidnapper is armed. Action would have to wait until he has a better overview of the conditions. Any aggressive act on his part at the given moment would only exacerbate the situation. Sam Tyler, the man he's been handcuffed to, was not of the same opinion. The moment the words are out of the man's mouth, Tyler has his free hand fisted in the man's collar, and has used the grip to slam the man's head into the pipe they're chained to.

"Give me the key," he hissed into the man's ear, fist still firmly holding the man's collar. The man smiled.

"Surely, you didn't expect me to approach you with the keys to your freedom on me?" he laughed warmly. Then his eyes turned cold and he grabbed something he'd been hiding behind his back, jammed down the lining of his pants. Before Tyler could even breathe, the man had a knife held against his eye. A wrong move, and there would be no more fun and games for Sam. Nicholas was relieved to see Tyler let go of the man, but as the kidnapper withdrew, he let his knife run gently down Sam's cheek, leaving a shallow cut. He could hear Tyler hiss at the pain, but as soon as the knife was tucked safely away, the man grabbed Sam's hair and slammed his head repeatedly into the wall. Nicholas tried to intervene, but the man was prepared and with a swift move, he'd handcuffed Nicholas's other arm to the copper pipe with a new set of cuffs.

"Try anything, and you will regret it," the kidnapper told him. Nicholas was pretty sure he would, and that probably Tyler would as well, so he remained still, working the situation and possible courses of action over in his head. As he did so, the man unlocked the handcuff that had previously connected him to Tyler, who was still too dazed to do anything at all. Nicholas could see him cuff the other officer's hands together, before dragging him by the collar to the middle of the room. Tyler was still too out of it to even consider fighting back, and Nicholas could feel his guts squirm in sympathy for the man.

There was a chain hanging from the ceiling with a nasty looking hook dangling from the end, and he was instantly reminded of slaughterhouses, where the carcasses of dead animals were hanging from hooks similar to the one in front of him. The kidnapper clipped the chain between the cuffs onto the hook. Sam was still mostly lying on the floor with his wrist fastened above him when the kidnapper marched over to the other end of the chain that dangled from a pulley in the ceiling. With strength he didn't appear to have, considering his thin and slightly aged body, he started pulling, the chain yanking Sam's wrist higher. With each tug on the chain, Sam was elevated higher until he was hanging limply from the ceiling, blood pouring from the where the wall had impacted with the side of his head, rendering him helpless. Nicholas wanted to look away. He didn't want to see what was about to happen to the man, but he couldn't turn his eyes from the scene. It felt unfair and cowardly, so he kept looking, not missing the hunger in the kidnapper's eyes as he surveyed his prey.

When Danny, Chris and Andy 3, who was called Ray, as Danny had discovered, arrived outside the station, Gene was already waiting for them in the bronze car he'd been riding in earlier. He sat with the engine on, not even acknowledging them, just waiting for them to get in. Ray was the first to move, but when he tried to open the door on the front passenger side, he found it locked. Danny could see him try to tug at it again, but it still wouldn't move, and Gene didn't make any move to open it. He didn't make any move at all. He just sat looking straight ahead, never moving as much as an eyelash. Ray seemed to come to some sort of realization, and quietly got into the back seat, closely followed by Chris. Figuring that, if he didn't get a move on, Gene would surely leave him behind, Danny hurried after, pressing in next to Chris, effectively squeezing the thin man between his and Ray's not insignificant bodies. As soon as the door had closed behind him, the car came to life with a great roar as it swung out on the road at high speed.

After 5 minutes of uncomfortable silence, Danny could take it no longer.

"So, is that where he used to sit, then?" He asked, pointing at the empty passenger seat. No one answered, and the silence became, if possible, even more oppressing.

"My dad wouldn't let me sit in mum's chair at the kitchen table after she…" He continued, before interrupting himself. Two sets of eyes glared at him, though Gene's stayed firmly on the road. Danny swallowed nervously.

"If you don't shut up soon, I'll smack you in the face," Ray threatened as Chris switched back and forth between an angry glare and a pale, nauseated look. Danny shut up and looked down on his lap.

It was 10 minutes later when the car came to a halt outside a row of brick buildings, not unlike most of Manchester's other housing accommodations.

"Where's this, Guv?" Ray asked, pulling out and lighting a cigarette as he stepped out of the car.

"This is where Tony Crane's bird lives," Gene explained, lighting a fag of his own.

The sound of flesh pounding flesh succeeded yet another of Tyler's agonized groans. Nicholas couldn't help wince at the dull thud that echoed through the basement.

"Miss Olawi," Gene greeted the confused woman who opened the door. Then a look that could only be described as _disgust_ commandeered her features, and Gene assumed she'd recognized him. _Best act before she starts hurling abuse_, he figured, and cut her off before she had a chance to even open her mouth. "We need to talk."

**AN:** Point to whoever spot the "someone looses an eye"-joke I stole from Rupert Giles. Also, comments are love. Please love me!


End file.
